


Puzzle Box

by Draycevixen



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Angst, Community: flashslash, First Time, First time with a man, Flash Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-01
Updated: 2011-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 20:53:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycevixen/pseuds/Draycevixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bodie's secret is out and Doyle wants time to think it over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puzzle Box

.

For years, Bodie's heart had been safely encased in a puzzle box so intricate that no one could open it although there had certainly been no shortage of people willing to try.

Then Doyle had almost died. When Ray had finally opened his eyes and looked at him, Bodie had seen the writing on the wall, a sudden image of his own heart pulsing red and livid in Doyle's hand and had known that he'd never be safe again. That was the day he'd written his resignation letter.

***

“Get a move on, Bodie.”

Bodie felt the nap of Doyle's terry towelling bathrobe warm and slightly damp under his fingers and remembered where he was and just what he was doing. His heart was still in his chest, he could feel it thudding against his ribs just from being this close to Ray. He finished lowering himself to his knees and moved his hand from Doyle's thigh up to his shoulder, tilting Doyle's head back with the little finger of his other hand.

“Open wide, Ray.”

Doyle grinned at him before slowly opening his mouth. Bodie leaned in closer, warning himself to be careful, not to push too far or too fast. He didn't want to risk hurting Ray. He swept the blade across Ray's face and then tilted Ray's head further up, trying not to be distracted by the long line of Ray's throat. Task completed, he swept his fingers up the length of that throat and across one cheek before acknowledging Ray's quizzical look.

“There, smooth as a baby's bum.”

Ray grinned and lifted his arms as far as he could. “Help me up you prat.”

Bodie wrapped his arms around him and lifted him carefully from the wooden chair he'd placed in the middle of Ray's bathroom, lingering slightly longer than he should have, enjoying the feeling of having Ray in his arms.

It was torture to be this close but he'd stay until Ray no longer needed his help or until Ray recovered enough to read the truth in Bodie's eyes and hit him or tell him to go. Then, he'd leave his letter for Cowley.

***

Bodie had been massaging the stiffness out of Doyle’s shoulders when Doyle had suddenly looked back at him, catching him unawares. Although Doyle didn’t say anything about it, he’d watched his eyes widen as he’d effortlessly read Bodie’s unguarded face.

 

One of the skills Bodie had acquired in Africa was the ability to think and act even while bleeding profusely. First, perform triage and then get on with what had to be done to survive until you could reach somewhere safe enough to properly tend to the wound. He'd excused himself as soon as he could, driven straight to his empty flat and packed the last of his clothes in to a waiting suitcase. All of his other personal belongings had been shifted to a lock-up during the first six weeks of Doyle's recovery. He'd taken one last look around before placing his flat and the Capri car keys in the middle of the kitchen counter on top of his resignation letter.

Outside, he'd walked two streets over to a garage he rented and was soon driving out of London in his own car. The traffic had been bad and it had taken him twice as long as usual to reach the cottage in Kent that no one at CI5 knew he owned. It was rustic, but it suited his purposes. The plan was simple. He'd spend a week or two there, teaching himself how to function again without Doyle, and wait for Cowley to be distracted by more important matters. Then he'd book a room at his favourite hotel in Paris and look up some old friends he was sure would be only too willing to find work for him.

***

Four days later, sick to death of his own brooding, he’d walked in to the village pub only to see Doyle sitting at a corner table. He’d hesitated, tempted to turn around and flee only to see Doyle shake his head slowly and point at the chair across from him. Bodie had dropped in to the chair, his face as blank and neutral as he could make it.

“How d’you know I’d be here?”

“You got drunk a few months back and told me if I ever needed to go to ground you had a place near Bapchild. You didn’t say where exactly. I’ve been staying here for three days now, hoping you’d show up.”

“Doyle, you shouldn’t be here, you should be home recoup—”

“Shut up. I told Cowley I’d find you and sort you out. I’ve found you.” Doyle’s fingers skimmed briefly down the side of Bodie’s face. “Now to sort you out.”

Doyle rose slowly and carefully to his feet as Bodie sat in a daze.

 

“Are you coming then?”

Doyle was already halfway across the pub and Bodie was still sitting at the table.

“Get my bag.”

Doyle pointed in the direction of the bar but didn't halt his slow progress toward the door. Confused, Bodie stopped and the barmaid pointed to a holdall on the floor.

“He packs it every night, has Dave bring it down here and pays for his room. Told us that when his friend turned up he had to be ready to leave fast.”

“You're not the only one who can anticipate a course of action.” Doyle spoke over his shoulder and kept moving.

Bodie caught up with him at the door. Doyle gestured broadly at the car park.

“Which one's yours?”

“I'll go and get it. You wait here.”

Doyle grabbed hold of Bodie's arm and glared at him, eyes narrowing dangerously.

“I'll be back in just a minute.”

“You better be, Bodie, else I'll hunt you down again and kick your arse.”

Even with Doyle sagging against the door frame Bodie believed him.

***

At the cottage, Bodie stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as Doyle lowered himself slowly on to the couch.

“I could murder a cuppa.”

Bodie went and made tea, gave Doyle a mug and went back to hovering in the middle of the room.

“Sit down, Bodie.”

Bodie looked around the room like another chair might magically appear.

“Here.”

Doyle patted the couch next to him and Bodie sat down, gripping his mug and staring straight ahead.

“For christssake, Bodie, say something.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Full of the joys of Spring, thanks for asking.”

“That's good.”

“If you ask me about the weather next, I swear I’m going to take a fucking hammer and see if I can—”

“I don't know what you're doing here, Ray.”

“I told you, to sort you out. I don't know what's going on in that bloody head of yours, but right now I need you.”

“You'll feel better soon and then you won't. You know how I feel about you Ray and—”

“Right now I don't care, Bodie.”

Bodie jerked around to look at him.

“You're my partner and you're supposed to be there for me. I know how I feel about you as a _friend_ , as for the rest of it, I really dunno.”

“I do. I _want_ you Ray. How d'you feel about—”

“I never thought I'd say this but right now the very idea of sex with _anyone_ is the farthest thing from my mind.”

“What about if I still want to leave now?”

“You can try it again if you want but you won't get far. I _know_ you, Bodie, and I know that bloody scares you to death but I don't care. I'm going to get my time to recover while I think this through and so are you.”

“Me?”

“Whether you can stay with CI5 or not whatever I decide. We're going back to London in the morning.”

***

The squad was busy drinking itself into oblivion after another successful operation. Doyle made his way across the crowded pub looking for Bodie. He yelled to ask Anson if he'd seen him and Anson's answer was swallowed by the noise of the crowd. When Doyle cupped one hand to his ear and shrugged, Anson made a crude hand gesture of one finger passing backward and forward through a circle formed by two fingers on his other hand and pointed toward the back of the pub.

At first Doyle thought Anson must have been mistaken but he walked a little further down the alley anyway, enjoying the cold fresh air after the stuffy pub. That's when he saw Bodie, standing between two piles of crates with his back against the wall. The blonde woman standing in front of Bodie obscured Doyle's view but it didn't take a genius to read Bodie's facial expressions and know what the blonde's hand wedged between their bodies was doing. Doyle turned around and walked quietly away.

 

The next night, Doyle was half asleep in front of the telly when Bodie turned up. Doyle let him in before trailing back to the couch yelling over his shoulder “there's beer in the kitchen if you want one.”

Bodie came to sit next to him in front of the telly, beer bottle in hand.

“Tyrone Power, _Blood and Sand_... It's a good film. 'Course when I went to a bullfight in Spain it wasn't anything like this.”

Doyle grunted in response and they watched the film in silence for the next twenty minutes, drinking their beers.

“I saw you, Ray.”

“Huh?”

“In the alley.”

“Oh.”

“Just _oh_? I know what you're thinking, Ray.”

Doyle turned to face him on the couch, staring him down.

“And what's that then?”

“That I told you how I felt about you and then you saw me in the alley with Brenda.”

“Well I—”

Bodie slammed his beer bottle down on the coffee table.

“Christ, Doyle, everything else is yours, isn't that enough? You aren't interested in my cock and I'm not a bloody virgin so what d'you expect?”

As Bodie started to rise to his feet Doyle gripped hold of his sleeve, holding him in place.

“Are you done?”

Bodie sank back into the couch, crossing his arms across his chest.

“When we drove back from Bapchild we agreed that I'd get well enough for active duty before we talked again about... us. It's only been a couple of months and—”

“Ten weeks, Four days, twenty hours.”

“—a couple of months and here you go again making assumptions about what I want and don't want.”

“It's all right Ray, you were right. I've had time to think about it too and I'm staying with the squad. We can still be partners, still be friends. Things might be a little fraught at first but I _need_ you in my life. My feelings toward you aren't ever going to change. Just don't expect me to live like a bloody monk in the meantime.”

“I don't. I came looking for you last night to ask you to come home with me.”

Doyle dropped his hand on to Bodie's thigh and Bodie almost jumped out of his skin.

“You mean you want—”

“I mean I think I _might_ want you. Everything else is right between us but I'm adrift in unfamiliar waters here, so kiss me and we'll see how it goes.”

“Now?”

“No, Easter. Of course bloody now.”

Bodie reached out and pulled him close.

 

“All right?”

“More than all right.”

“So now what?”

“So bed, Bodie, and you can flash a bit more of your repertoire and we'll see how it goes.”

“I'll flash anything you want.”

Doyle rose from the couch and pulled Bodie to his feet.

“C'mon you big oaf.”

Doyle started pulling Bodie by his shirt front toward the bedroom, right before he stopped dead so suddenly that Bodie collided with him.

“And just to be clear, Bodie, if this goes as well as I think it's going to go...”

Doyle broke off to kiss him again, grinding his hips against Bodie's.

“... What, Ray?”

“Your cock belongs to me along with everything else or I'll be wearing your balls as cufflinks.”

“If you want fine jewellery, Ray, you only have to ask, you don't have to resort to violence.”

 

.


End file.
